Project MANTIS
by Neverwhere Chaos Mode
Summary: Space Pirates capture Ranma, and alter his genetics to suit their needs. He is now, S'tomeR'nma, MANTIS PRIME, and the Space Pirate's last hope for destroying the Hunter, Samus Aran
1. Log Files

Prologue – Log Files

_Excerpts from the research journal of Head Scientist T'ska-atha:_

Project Mantis has goals that are at once simple and vastly complex. A single sentence that states everything we need to know.

Produce a warrior that can match and exceed the Hunter.

The legions we have can do nothing against the Hunter as it stands now. The Hunter has technology from the old races. The powerful ones. The Chozo, The Luminoth. These things give her power. No matter how we combine the technology with our own, we cannot completely master the theories behind it. Morph Ball technology in particular eludes us. While not seemingly the most useful form of technology, it has enabled the hunter to survive where others fail – though this is but one of many examples. In addition, the legions themselves are useless to such an endeavor. The legions are too used to responding to the commands of the hive as a whole, making them too easy to predict.

Project Mantis seeks to reduce or eliminate these difficulties as well as is possible. Mother has given us access to all the data we have at present to accomplish this. All we know of the Chozo, the Luminoth, the Ing, the metroids, phazon, the Dark Hunter, and the Hunter herself, not to mention our own formidable technology. All these technologies and biologies are being considered, evaluated for their strengths and weaknesses, and recombined for maximum results.

The reports of those who spot the Hunter and live, at least long enough to record their observations, have been considered as well. It seems that the Hunter moves with a clarity of thought that far exceeds any of our forces.

Perhaps, like with technology, it is time to fight fire with fire. We need something capable of independent thought. Something… someone adaptable, capable of surviving of long periods of time in a hostile environment. The subject should come from a planet with mid-range technology. Not advanced enough to catch the eye of the Federation, but still advanced enough to understand the basics. If Mother approves, we may finally have a worthwhile plan.

_Excerpts of the mission log of Strike Leader X'll-chak:_

As expected, the Terran Federation watches over the entire system carefully, as they have demonstrated with other Terran planets that are coming close to the technology levels needed to ascend to the stars, preventing all out invasion. This sneaking in like assassins disgusts me. We should strike hard. But, these orders come directly from Mother herself. I cannot disobey.

I can only hope this 'Project Mantis' is worth this effort.

…

Mother preserve us!

I had not thought highly of Terrans before now, but these we were sent after are clearly of different stock. They fight like the Mother's own Guardians. Clearly the energy spikes were not glitches like the scientists first thought!

One in particular incapacitated over half my men on its own. Several will require new limbs; a few others are dead, cut cleanly in half by waves of energy. We managed to subdue this one only by force of numbers wearing it out… Anything Project Mantis can do with these to augment our forces may finally make us a match for the Hunter.

…

We have barely made it back to the colony intact. The Federation discovered us as we made our way out of the system. One of the strikes disabled the holding cell on the powerful one. Several more of my men died, and several vital systems were damaged before he could be overpowered again.

This one is stronger than any of us, and may in fact be a match for one of Mother's Guardians if fresh. Such power in the hands of an un-augmented Terran frightens me. No one says anything, but I am certain it terrifies us all.

_Further excerpts from the research journal of Head Scientist T'ska-atha:_

Mother grows impatient. The first subjects met with limited success, but over all were dismal failures. One reacted well to the Phazon. This was a risk, as we abandoned the phazon research several years ago as unstable. No real mutations occurred, but the increased levels of energy production were an extraordinarily good sign. The subject was, however, not quite as intelligent as we were hoping. Sniper units took it down with some effort. Another could outperform the snipers, but was unable to deal well with direct combat. The others faced similar problems, and have been put down. The one we have left though, is the one Strike Leader X'll-chak refers to as the powerful one. I can only pray that this one is what we hoped for, because I fear we do not have much time before Mother orders us executed.

So, this is it. All or nothing.

…

Success!

Even if Project Mantis fails against the Hunter, we have still managed to balance and mix the various technologies and genotypes in such a fashion that Space Pirate technology will become vastly superior to what it was.

I cannot help but revel in the success we had. With our lives on the line we risked everything, trying several untested techniques, but it worked.

The subject, like several of the others had unusual reactions to liquids of varying temperature. We were not able to figure out the entirety of the energy matrix bound within, but we were able to remove the liquid triggers and make them instinctive. We then replaced the genetic structure that should have uncoiled, a female terran, with an untested hybrid of Ing and Pirate DNA, while we treated the subject directly by splicing in metroid DNA. In addition, we drained the energy out of the matrix, a nearly everlasting, self-replenishing flow, and replaced it with pure phazon. Fortunately, the subject's abilities to instinctively handle energy combined with the metroid's own cellular fusion abilities caused a subtle mutation along the body, letting the phazon flow through the subject's body, augmenting without harming.

Fascinating.

The hybrid of Ing/Pirate genetics contained in the energy matrix allows us control of the subject through Ing means, not upsetting the subject's natural adaptability, but uses the standard Pirate interface for control. While the subject is connected mother directly, it has no access to the Hive. It must learn and grow constantly if it is to keep pace with the Hunter. In any case, the mixture can be 'released' from the energy matrix at will. The Ing ability to form solids from liquids, and even absorb and use technology has given the subject the ability to assume a hard carapace over its flesh, and interchange said technology at will. Like the previous genetics though, the Ing genetics run more than skin deep once active. The subject genetics used most closely resemble the Ing type designated as the Hunter Ing. Capable of rendering himself discorporate, and lashing out with lightning fast tentacles, any subject would be rendered into a most effective weapon, to say nothing of the subject's inherent qualities.

In the startup tests, the subject exhibited all of these qualities, but also many of the innate abilities the subject had prior to the procedure. It's blast of energy and thrown blades have increased their effectiveness, being constructed of phazon mixed with the indeterminate energy the subject had use of originally. It additionally demonstrated invisibility, and temporary speed boosts.

A weapon that may be able to match the Hunter indeed.

Mother is pleased.

…

While the suit may be retracted, the subject has had several elements of something the terrans refer to as 'deja-vu' with the suit off. Until we can counter this problem, or until the need is great, we've sealed the subject's ability to remove the suit, and wiped its memories of such things. Still, as this does nothing to diminish combat performance, Mother is still happy.

But, without the connection to the Hive, we are forced to teach the subject the old fashioned way. With the control inhibitors in place, the subject learns quickly enough, though our language seems to be giving him some trouble, no doubt due to the various differences in our throats – the subject is a mammal after all.

…

This 'X' the metroids prey on is impressive, and MANTIS PRIME can absorb trace particles for rapid regeneration. We were lucky to have found those trace particles in what was left of SR388. The particles were damaged in their genetics, unfortunately, and we can only speculate from the files that we are missing the more fragile pieces that govern its intelligence, and it abilities at self-evolution. This is a boon, as Mother would tolerate them less if they gained true intelligence. The research team on Strid has to help evolve and incubate it, but it still seems impressive. Impressive enough for… testing.

What makes it impressive though, is its standard evolution, the piece the team found floating the debris field. The X managed to copy the Hunter. The Federation files we obtained refer to the creature as the 'SA-X' while, like the metroids, they are unable to be controlled, and indeed, are vastly more dangerous than the metroids, we still have learned to breed one or two, learning much about Chozo technology in the process.

Not only that, but it gives MANTIS something test itself on. The SA-X has not the intelligence of the original Hunter, but it is still a good test of skills. Still, the Hunter's intelligence, or reputation for advancement should never be discounted. It's why the project exists.

The tests with the SA-X have revealed a weakness to cold brought on by the metroid DNA in MANTIS's system. This weakness is unsettling, but given the subject's original adaptability, MANTIS has simply learned not to be hit by that blast under any circumstances. The rate of success rose dramatically after that. Mother is still reasonably pleased.

It's a far higher success rate than any other of our forces alone or in groups could accomplish.

---

He awoke in darkness, as befit all of his kind. Sensing that he was conscious, the room turned on the overhead lights, giving him the ability to see accurately. Not that he couldn't see without light, simply that his vision was somewhat… inadequate in the dark.

He stopped to examine himself, and found everything was in order. A hard armored carapace of dusky black covered his body, interspaced with glowing red veins. His knees had wicked looking protrusions off the top, the veins coming up and forming the edge around them. He was mostly humanoid in appearance, but for the insect like helmet covering his head. He knew it was a helmet, like the rest was a suit, but he could not remember ever seeing himself without the garment and helmet on. It seemed fitting. His forearms had jagged, razor edges along the outside of them, and spikes on the top of his wrists that he knew would jut out to be able to strike an opponent at a thought, or even extend into full tentacles, able to grab things from a distance. He had two other stronger, more durable spikes jutting off his back at the shoulder that he knew were capable of the same.

His ponderings were interrupted.

**_Greetings MANTIS PRIME._**

_Mother?_

A feeling of approval.

**_Yes… You deserve a designation, youngling. Our hope should have more than his model name._**

_As you wish, mother._

**_I think… yes. That is fitting. I call you into my presence, youngling. Present yourself to the Guardians as S'tome-r'nma._**

_I am coming, Mother._

---

_Personal log of bounty hunter Samus Aran:_

The request from the Federation Government has sent me on dispatch to the planet Strid.

This call is unusual, given the fact that the situation is not yet completely hopeless. There are still quite a few of the 'native' Stridians left on the world. Even the Federation themselves aren't completely out gunned, merely confined to a small base – the only one the Stridians would let them have, suspicious of the Federation government as they are. A few of the more hardy refuse to leave their homes, and instead trade intelligence for supplies. This is not a hopeless situation, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. Not so much because I wish for the admittedly significant pirate presence on the planet to overwhelm them, but because I am unused to going it alone and dislike working with others. Especially if those others are Federation.

Adam tells me I'm being silly. He would say that.

Having non-hostiles in area, primary mission of protecting a certain point rather than being on the offensive… it rubs me the wrong way. But this time, they say, the Pirates are dug in deep. Can't just rush their premature defenses like before. Actual fortifications, like they're in for the long haul. Or the base wasn't built recently.

It rubs me the wrong way. But there are Pirates here, and there's bound to be a hole in those defenses sometime. Even if I have to make one. I'll watch and wait.

Another curious fact is that this planet also shows up on another star chart I have. The one that depicts all the planets the Chozo inhabited before they abandoned their technology and settled on various other worlds to live a simple existence. The information about the planet – the Chozo refer to it as Helgedom – also reveals another familiar name. Luminoth. Seems it was a meeting place for their races.

Adam's own preliminary scans of the planet indicate the presence of the X. That means metroids to feed on it. But how did either of them get here? The Pirates possibly, but how would they have gotten their hands on the X? There are also some phazon traces, but that may be Pirates. Thought they'd abandoned the phazon infusion process as unstable.

Makes me wonder what the Pirates are up to this time.

For that matter, it makes me wonder what the Federation is up to this time.

Adam's scan also picked up something else down there – and it almost made me turn around anyway.

---

Adam, the re-christened auburn and gold star craft of Samus Aran, descended out of the atmosphere, and parked next to a blue craft similar looking to her old one, the Texas. Elevator lowering her between the the landing skids of her ship, Samus's power suit was the same colors as her ship, or at least it was now that she'd had the thing repainted from that ghastly purple.

Leaning against the Texas, rested another figure in power armor, his suit's blue the same color as his craft also. His power suit was also an open imitation of her own. For all their resemblance, Houston's (_Ass always did like his puns_) suit was a cheap knock-off, and barely rated higher than standard Federation gear. He had his helm off, letting his red hair (and there was a lot of it on a full head, bushy eyebrows, mustache and beard) wave slightly from her touchdown.

Samus's own helm vanished in a flash of light, letting her blond ponytail fall free. She glared at the idiot grin Houston was wearing.

"What, no greeting for your old partner?"

Samus's glare deepened. "We were never partners. As I recall, Houston, you got me distracted at a critical juncture and nearly got me killed."

His smile faltered a bit, but it reasserted itself shortly as he crossed the distance to her while she walked towards the door.

"I'll win you over eventually, Sam. Just you wait."

Samus didn't think her glare could get any deeper, but Houston kept pushing the buttons. "Don't," she hissed, "call me Sam."

Houston coughed a little and backed up a couple feet. "Anyway, Commander Tark wanted to meet with you once you touched down. Wants to talk about orders."

Samus didn't respond, she simply stared. He glare lightened up a bit once he stopped actively making her angry, but he turned around and led the way to Tark's office without further comment. Outside the office, a young woman with short black hair and a harried expression on her face looked up, and sighed with relief. She was in full battle uniform minus the helm, which rested within easy reach, and her right arm was uncovered, blaster also within easy reach. Samus approved. She'd be ready for a fight in moments despite the paperwork she seemed almost buried in. She spoke to them quickly. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Kim Raynor. I'll most likely handle your dispatches after Commander Tark is through with you. Better get in there fast. He doesn't tolerate tardiness – or anything else – from military personnel, let alone anyone else."

She buzzed them in, and Samus saw what she meant. A large bear of a man, commander Tark obviously had a custom power suit. Not because he could afford it, or had the rank for it, but simply because he wouldn't have fit into a normal suit of power armor. He glared at them from behind his desk, the light shining in on his bald head, thick mustache, and the cigar he had clenched in his teeth.

"There you are!" The man's normal tone of voice seemed a loud bellow. "I've been waiting a goddamn half hour here, while those damned Pirates pick off all the men I send out there on patrol! I've had to cut back on it because of that! I need that intel, damnit! You can't really trust a word those mud hoppers say when they bring us their reports. Wouldn't know a regular pirate from a commando. Probably can't even count. Raynor's got your patrol routes! Dismissed!"

The sheer force of his last word likely had enough force to shove them out the door by itself. Samus and Houston found themselves outside his door suddenly. Houston offered a small smile to her. "Pleasant, isn't he?"

Samus fought off an urge to smack him. Why was it things she'd accept from anyone else made her want to hit him every time he said them? _Oh, that's right. He nearly got me killed._

Lt. Commander Raynor awaited them outside the door, with data disks in hand. "This is the patrol data. Just make note of any Pirate activity you find."

Samus arched a thin eyebrow. "Report?"

Kim bit her lip a little. "Well, we're trying to keep the people alive here, so we're not supposed to engage them – it just gets our people killed."

Samus nodded. "But, I'm not a part of the chain of command, right?"

Kim nodded. "Your discretion, Miss Aran… but try to stay alive out there." She offered a half smile. "Commander'll have my hide if you die."

Samus nodded and walked out, the light flash replacing her helmet again as usual. Houston followed her, trying to catch her attention, but she ignored him in favor of the map data provided.

---

Force Leader, formerly Strike Leader X'll-chak stood calmly while the commoners below him scurried about in response to the news.

The Hunter's new craft had been spotted lowering onto the landing platform at the Terran base Nedrig. He snorted in disgust. The ones below him didn't know terror until they'd seen an unarmed terran start ripping their fellows limb from limb. _That_ image had stayed with him even after all these years. That was true horror, the unknown. Power suits could be explained. What he'd seen that day… could not. X'll-chak later inquired as to the results of Project MANTIS, just to see if it had been worth the sacrifice of those under him, and while he was told no specifics, he was told that it had been successful.

So when the Hunter's craft appeared, he'd simply sent notice to the home world concerning the Hunter's appearance. He was went immediate orders to dig in and wait for Guardian S'tome-r'nma to arrive and confront her. They were to worry about the Terran forces, and not pursue the Hunter actively. _No chance of that,_ he thought bitterly as he noticed the panicked were either calming down or exhausting themselves. Either way it was quiet now, which he appreciated. He told his aid to tighten defenses and not give the Hunter the space to get in.

All they had to do was wait, and the Hunter would die.


	2. Oddities

Chapter 1 – Oddities

_Excerpt from the log of Pirate Researcher T'kla-yith:_

Subject: The Hive

The Hive is difficult to explain to someone not connected to it, I have discovered. We, as Pirates, are all born in the same way. We are cloned. I, as a scientist, was cloned from other scientists, hoping that increased intelligence would 'breed' true. Like all scientists, I have a basic, almost non existent connection to the Hive. The Hive taught me the language, the basic sciences, and ensured my loyalty. Supposedly. The rest of my thoughts are my own, as was determined necessary for scientists to have new ideas. But because of this freedom of thought, our loyalty is… less ensured than the warrior class, and thus we are watched with suspicion.

The full differences between various Pirate classes are a subject for another day.

The Hive, I have learned, is different for the various soldier class Pirates. It does teach them as it teaches we the scientists. They learn the language, a basic set of skills for their job, and it ensures loyalty. All these things are taught in a matter of minutes as the newly cloned warrior goes through his artificial growth stage. The final step before birth is when Mother touches our small, newly formed minds, and names us. For most, that is the most contact with mother they will ever have. That contact, though ensures the Hive loyalty. A basic soldier, then, a trooper, will go through life, accepting data from the Hive.

From talking to various others, I have learned it is a balancing process. The lower ranks have the highest degree of possibility to rebel, and the least skills to draw out of the Hive. If promoted, the Pirate goes and has his exo-armor changed, and Mother touches his mind again, congratulating him, and opening him further to the Hive, allowing access to more skills, but also ensuring that much more loyalty. And thus it goes. The type of skills mother grants depend upon the ranking and type of the Pirate. In some cases, I have found, when a commando was transferred, since he no longer needed his underwater tactics skills on a desert planet, he found he could no longer access them. This… dependence… on the Hive for information and skills ensures loyalty at all times, but it also limits us to whatever Mother wishes us to be.

The Guardians, those who protect Mother directly, are the only ones who can contact Mother at will. Their connection to the Hive is the strongest, but because of it, they are the most loyal. The Guardians go through gene augmentation in addition to technological enhancement, and are each… unique. However most of them seem to move by the maxim, bigger is better, though admittedly, most of them have quite a few tricks up their proverbial sleeves.

Hmm. It occurs to me that several of my comments here border on treasonous. Perhaps there is good reason they watch those of us with more freedom of the mind more carefully.

---

The craft was a new Pirate type, an Echo. It was a craft capable of incredible speeds. It could get so much speed because about ninety percent of it was dedicated to the engines. The other ten percent was divided into life-support, which would keep the 'pilot' in suspended animation for the trip; it's nearly unrivaled stealth technology, and the autopilot. It was named an Echo class because with the speed and stealth, the most an enemy would see was a sensor ghost as it went by. It was meant to be a long range drop ship with a passenger list of one.

It was also a one-way ticket because the engines burnt themselves out.

The occupants of the Pirate base Krig could care less about the craft, even if it was new. They wanted to see the new anti-Hunter weapon that was aboard. They had been told it was coming to them, to boost morale, and it had worked. Mother herself had approved it and virtually guaranteed it would have success against the Hunter. This was not the posturing of scientists begging for life, this was hope become reality.

When the craft almost gently ejected its passenger, they were almost disappointed. It stood erect like a terran, despite the faceplate and red veins on the surface, looking like nothing so much as a terran in a bug suit, no matter how frightening. But then… then it stood on the rail of its ship and observed them, crouched, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for it, and they relaxed a little.

The next morning, they learned that standing and walking were virtually the only things it did while straight up and down, and the Guardian did not like to do those. When still, it liked to crouch on thin railings, when running it hunched over for less wind resistance. For all it's structuring, it certainly acted like one of them.

---

Force Leader X'll-chak observed Guardian S'tome-r'nma. Certainly he no longer remembered the Pirate who had taken him and the others with him off that small world. The Guardian seemed impatient for news of the Hunter, however, and was likely to strike out on its own soon. It did not have patience. Of course that could have been a quality brought on by the lack of connection to the hive itself, for this Guardian was connected to, and only to, Mother Brain herself.

A trooper rushed in. "Force Leader! The Hunter has been spotted!"

The Guardian rushed over to hear the report as X'll-chak motioned for the trooper to continue.

"She's been spotted in the Torka desert. She accompanies several Federation Troopers."

The Guardian nodded. "I'm going. Don't bother coming after me unless your orders change." X'll-chack watched the other Pirate's back as he casually strolled out of the room. X'll-chak unclenched his mandibles after he'd left. Something about that one… irritated him.

---

S'tome-r'nma crouched quietly on the top of the canyon wall, shielded from prying eyes. As several reports of the Hunter mentioned her ability to see them while invisible, he made sure to stay out of her direct line of sight, uncertain whether she could penetrate his technique with whatever technology she used to detect them. He was forced to shift his position several times as she looked around her, but he was never in real danger of being spotted.

He could not attack just yet, so he watched. The Hunter was vigilant, to be certain, but she did not look up unless she had cause to. Sloppy, but given the sheer noise most Pirate flight systems made, understandable.

The reason he could not attack at the moment were the other troopers with her. While certainly without her they would prove no problem for one of his ability, they would provide just enough distraction that she was likely to be able to launch several effective strikes – possibly with the hated cold weapon. It was too much of a risk. If she was alone, he would confront her. If these troopers were alone, he would eliminate them. Together… just enough trouble to make it better to wait.

Patience was not his strong suit.

Still… he had his orders. When not actively hunting the Hunter, he was to know the lay of the land, and assist the other Pirates – discretely. No tipping the hand until he confronted the Hunter. But the Force Leader would definitely be interested in whatever that device the Federation soldiers were carrying. It seemed they had something they wanted to study.

He was not there when it was placed in the container, so he knew nothing about it. He switched on a primitive scanning tool. Nothing too advanced, but occasionally useful.

Hmm… In the container was an organism. Why it rated so much study from the Federation was something the Force Leader would have to look into. It wasn't even a complete organism, from what he could tell. Just the head of one. Well, it wasn't his concern if the terrans wanted a trophy of some kind. And if that wasn't it, then it was the Force Leader's problem, not his.

Wait. Looks like they're ready to begin moving again. As they moved through a doorway, he slipped right through the wall after them. The door opened into a tunnel, and S'tome-r'nma cursed mentally, and kept himself discorporate. While someone moving through him wouldn't feel him in a physical sense, they felt decidedly strange as it happened. He'd have to stay back. There was also the problem of proximity if the Hunter decided to turn around. He decided to hug the wall, and be ready to bolt into it if he had to.

The Hunter, fortunately, did not turn around. That would have been bad. Once out of the tunnel, he followed once more at a discrete distance, until they reached a portal like device and moved through. He cursed, and prepared to return to Krig. There was no telling where the portal went, and what the conditions were on the other side. If it moved directly into the terran base, he might as well wave a flag and scream his presence.

He sighed, and tried to let it go. There would be other opportunities. He would, in all honesty, like to see the Hunter in action a few times before he confronted her, to learn what patterns she favored. He wondered, briefly, if he should fake an attack pattern like his brethren, then discarded it. It smacked of cowardice, preparing for defeat like that.

He turned, and began the long march back to Krig. It had been hours to this place, and it would be hours back. He had noted several strange things. He would deliver his report to the Force Leader, then return to his quarters to commune with Mother. She would know what to do.

---

Samus was… uneasy… as she returned to the swampland outside Nedrig. The portal device was not it. It was combination Luminoth and Chozo technology, and as such she was more comfortable with it than most Federation transport vessels. The Federation didn't build their base around it because they didn't entirely control it, and wouldn't risk the security breach. Still, they built the base in what was roughly the center of all rifts here, giving them quick access when they needed it.

No. What made her uneasy was the fact that she'd felt like they were being watched until they came through the portal machine. She'd looked around several times, but not caught sight of anything, not even with the X-Ray visor. Still…

She shrugged it off. Probably her nerves. These last few days with Commander Tark breathing down her neck trying to get her to share anything about the nearby ruins, which they couldn't open, was wearing on her. It also made her suspicious. The Federation had never shown much interest in Chozo technology before now, thinking that they could match it with their own. Old or not, Chozo was still the best.

Still… never hurt to check. She flipped on her transponder.

"Adam… did you detect anything following us back from the prowler's den today?"

Prowelers… prowelers were tunneling creatures. Part giant ant, part mole, they could also shoot a stream of acid from their mouths that would dissolve damn near anything. They usually only used it for their tunneling, but they could be provoked into using it for defense. And while territorial, their dens weren't all that large. Still, the Federation wanted a look at those acid sacs, and she'd been ordered as escort. Escort! If things didn't start getting better soon… contract or no contract…

Adam interrupted. "I studied the readings, Lady. It's faint… but there just might have been something there."

Shit.

"Okay… so something was stalking us. Any ideas what or why?"

Adam responded negatively. "No. Not without closer readings. I was doing wide scans of the area before, but I'll try focusing on your immediate area when you go out next. I'll let you know the minute I spot something, Lady."

"Thanks, Adam."

She shut the link off, and resumed paying more attention to her surroundings as they closed on the base.

As they closed in on the base, two figures rushed out. One was beautiful, if petite woman with bright blue hair and small glasses perched on her nose. Rather than the standard Federation scientist's uniform, she wore a white lab coat over a pink-red jumpsuit. Her only concessions to standard uniform were the gray-white thigh high combat boots that she was using to slog through the ankle deep water. As always, she carried her data transcriber, about the size, shape and approximate function of an old clipboard. There was a humming device attached to her wrist.

Following her was a short weedy fellow with a dirty blond bowl cut. He was wearing a male-scientists uniform, gray and white all over, sealed with an optional face-covering hood on back to protect from various harmful substances in the air.

Samus walked over to where The blue haired woman was taking notes. "Why exactly did I have to go on that, Delila? It was a waste of time." Samus had learned a healthy amount of respect for Delila in the past few days. She was one of the few who had the guts to tell Tark where to stick it.

"Hmm? Oh, well, you were there in case they ran into those nasty Pirates again. The only other time we've managed to bring a prowler down, and actually get the pieces of it back here, the silly Trooper blew its head off! We'd like to know just why its own acid doesn't affect it. The rest of the poor thing they brought back that time was just as vulnerable as everything else. Of course, a live specimen would be better still, because that icky acid has such a horrible shelf life."

Of course, if you weren't irritating her, she was sickeningly cheerful. Bipolar bordering on schizophrenia.

Samus could only groan internally and hope that idiot Houston would be sent out with the team that tried to corral a live one. Trying to keep it from eating its way out of whatever cage they brought for it would be a horrendous hassle.

She shook her head and wandered into the base before Delila got the bright idea of asking her to go and try.

---

X'll-chak nodded at what the Guardian told him. Their spy had been telling the truth, it seemed. Spies, especially terrans, not to mention terrans willing to sell out their own, were not to be trusted. But still, if that information was accurate, then perhaps what they planned to do with it was also accurate. He resolved to spend a good deal of time talking with his Chief Strategist on the matter, and dismissed the Guardian. It was a strange relationship, being technically in command of one such as he, who technically out ranked him by several levels. Still, if he was ordered to report findings to a Force Leader, then the Force Leader obviously had a small amount of say in those actions. Figuring out how much say was the key.

S'tome-r'nma for his part, was proceeding to his quarters to meditate and commune with Mother. Ordinarily, a Guardian could call out to her at any time, distance only slightly limiting the communication, but he was… special. The things that made him so much better than the others, even those at his rank, made his connection with Mother tenuous, and only reachable by meditation, or proximity. Within a few minutes, his mind steered itself along the road in his mind to where Mother waited.

**_Greetings S'tome-r'nma. What have you to tell me?_**

_I sighted the Hunter today. Too many others around to confront her openly, but I managed to observe her for a time._

**_I see… and what else? You would not have sought me out if there was no reason to. You do not like asking for help._**

_No, Mother, I do not like asking for help, but…_

**_You may tell me anything, youngling. That is why I am Mother._**

S'tome-r'nma nodded.

_It is… I question the Federation's presence here._

**_What of it?_**

_They collect local creatures, or their parts, for study._

**_We do the same. What creatures do they study?_**

_Several… but that is not my point. There are other worlds… Worlds with more valuable creatures to study, or we would study them as well._

**_You think it a ruse then?_**

_Study of the local creatures makes no sense, especially if the size and composition of the forces here is to be believed. They are here for something else._

**_Very possible, youngling. Your mind serves you well, unlike my commanders. They see only a threat and do not question. Why do you think they are here?_**

_Possibly for the same reason as we set up Krig. It is remote._

**_A secret project of the Federation government then._**

She said nothing for a long time, long enough that it got uncomfortable.

_Mother?_

**_I think… Youngling, it is time for subtlety. A trait many of my forces lack, but you carry in abundance._**

He felt a tingling upon his spine then, and a part of his mind opened to him. The knowledge to shed his suit like a skin.

_Mother?_

**_You know what an infiltration mission is, correct?_**

_Of course, Mother._

**_Good. Without your armor, you look quite like a terran. You will use this ability to walk among them. Remember that destroying the Hunter is still your primary task._**

_Yes, Mother._

**_You now, however have secondary objectives. One, is to figure out the answer to your questions. What are the Federation doing here? It may be valuable to us. The second, is to kill the Nedrig's commanding officer. Take care not to arouse suspicion with those, however. If it proves impossible, then we can attempt to divine their purpose from their wreckage. I will issue orders to Force Leader X'll-chak within the hour. But this is what _you_ must do…_**

---

Samus scowled underneath her helmet. Houston had gone on and on to Lt. Raynor about how they were partners, and the girl had responded. They were now on a paired patrol duty, deep in the Torka desert.

She could feel the grin on the blue armored figure's face as he spoke. "Well, I have to admit we haven't seen any signs of the Pirates around here… what do you say we head back?"

She rounded on him. "No sign of Pirates? We've seen plenty of signs of them. The posts have simply been deserted, that's all!"

Houston threw up his hands in defense. "Easy, Samus! I just mean that we haven't seen anything useful out here!"

"I don't think either of you see much of anything if this guy was able to get this close to you without you noticing something."

They both turned to the new threat. Wearing the black garb most natives wore in the desert, a man crouched atop a small hill. A light cloth covered his face to keep the sand out, and goggles were over his eyes. Unarmed except for a small, low powered blaster hung of his sash like belt, and a knife he was holding buried in the sand. He shrugged. "Man you guys are jumpy."

He pulled his knife out of the sand and sheathed it at the waist, letting blood seep to the surface as the light barrier of sand fell away to reveal a massive mouth. The knife had struck into the back of its neck while it was still buried. The man grinned a little, seemingly embarrassed by the slightly impressive skill that would take. "Sand sharks. Stupid, but not bad eating."

He stuck his hand out to them, and Samus cautiously accepted it.

"Ranma Saotome, pleased to meetcha!"


End file.
